


Getting Ready

by Ladderofyears



Series: 365 [42]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Formalwear, Frustrated Harry Potter, Getting Dressed, M/M, Suave Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Harry struggles with a formal shirt, but Draco is on hand to help him.





	Getting Ready

**Author's Note:**

> This is day twelve of Fictober, this fic uses the prompt _Yes! I admit you were right._

Harry wasn’t a man who was easily defeated. He feared neither Dragons nor Acromantula, and had willingly raised his wand against some of the most evil magic know to wizardkind. Harry had even committed his whole future to Draco Malfoy, which was a brave decision in anyone’s spell-book. 

Today, however, Harry felt like giving up. 

Draco, his husband and so-called love of his life was currently lazing on their bed, watching Harry struggle into his formal shirt. It was quite the most complicated, fussy and ridiculous item Harry had ever tried to wrestle himself into. Wizarding formal wear was more complicated to get into than Quidditch gear, or the magical protective vests that he wore in the field! The buttons were tiny and indistinguishable from the brocade, and there were straps, and lacing, and fastenings everywhere- 

Of course, it had taken Draco a matter of _minutes_ to get dressed. Harry watched in irritation as his perfectly dressed, blond-haired husband cast a Tempus Charm. The clock hovered above Draco’s hand for a single moment. 

“Merlin, Potter,” Draco said, standing. “You really are making a crup’s dinner of that shirt. You do appear to have put it on backwards. If you’d only let me help you when I asked-”

Harry grit his teeth in annoyance. “Yes, _yes_. I admit you were right. Just get the bloody thing on me. We’re late already.”

Draco’s hands were on him immediately. His long lithe aristocratic fingers knew precisely how to wrangle such clothes and Harry simply moved his hands out of the way. It was easier to just let Draco work his magic. 

Draco’s hands were cool and quick against his hot, sweat-damp skin, and soon all the pieces of the absurd shirt were finally coming together. Catches were slid shut and a speck of a button was fed thought an even smaller hole. Harry huffed out a breath as Draco’s hands slid along his sides, pulling the shirt straight before precisely buttoning it in a matter of moments…

“You polish up nicely,” Draco murmured, knotting Harry’s tie. “But I’ll promise you one thing, Potter. Both our clothes will look _far_ better later as a crumpled pile on our floor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx


End file.
